


Lay Down and Die

by Island_in_the_Shadows



Series: Same Song Songfics [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, And is obfuscating the crap out of it, As per usual honestly, Courtship, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Palace, Murder Husbands, Songfic, Undercover, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Island_in_the_Shadows/pseuds/Island_in_the_Shadows
Summary: His and Hannibal's courtship had been a whirlwind. He wasn't one to give into his primal urges but, with little prompting from the older man, he had let his guard down. Every conversation they had had since the moment they had met had been charged with an electric tension that begged for release come nightfall. Then that release...it was unlike any he had ever known before. It was blood dripping down his face in the moonlight. It was the crunching of bones on his tongue. It was punishing hands cutting and healing his skin in one fell swoop. It was fullness and sin and everything he had never known he wanted. It was during these moments that Will finally believed in a higher power. Though the higher being that he believed in was not God but the tangible devil that he held in his arms and kissed against the kitchen counter.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Same Song Songfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977256
Kudos: 15





	Lay Down and Die

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series I'm working on where I do songfics of various ships but all using the exact same song. The song being: Joke's On You by Charlotte Lawrence. Because I immediately loved it when I say Birds of Prey and then ran with it. Started with the Murder Husbands because they're the kings of a toxic relationship you wanna ship despite yourself.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> P.S. No beta because if I have to go through this a thousand more times I'd never post it.

This house was now dead and haunted-- it had become a Dionysian sacrifice--post bacchanals of violence and depravity. Stepping on the floorboards would emit hints of the music that had once been played while the owners reveled in their macabre joy. If one had vision worthy of a superhero, one could see afterimages of them in the particles of dust and decay in the air. Yet it didn't take someone with supernatural senses to see the corpses. That is what happened in the end--the house fed on the flesh of the residents as it was wont to do. But this hadn't happened yet. 

* * *

**THEN:**

It was another resplendent party thrown by the owner of the home, Hannibal Lecter. His longtime lover, Will Graham, was not the sociable type but, he loved the other man, and thus simply smiled politely in a corner as the farcical nature of the evening played out in its prosaic rhythm. As Hannibal animatedly engaged in conversation with the socialite next door, he winked conspiratorially at Will who waved him off with a half-smile. This party, Will knew, was all an act. He had been with Hannibal for long enough that it no longer bothered him to suffer through the ordeal. He would be happily recompensed at the end of the evening when all but one of the guests had gone home. 

His and Hannibal's courtship had been a whirlwind. He wasn't one to give into his primal urges but, with little prompting from the older man, he had let his guard down. It was easy to do when Hannibal made it clear that not only did he understand Will, he didn't judge Will for his eccentricities or pitied him or liked him despite them. In fact, Hannibal celebrated Will's differences and knew how to appease every little anxiety and doubt within his mind. That's what made Hannibal so intoxicating-- and so hard to leave. Not that Will wanted to leave him at first. He still debated about it. It was hard to do when every conversation they had had since the moment they had met had been charged with an electric tension that begged for release come nightfall. Then that release...it was unlike any he had ever known before. It was blood dripping down his face in the moonlight. It was the crunching of bones on his tongue. It was punishing hands cutting and healing his skin in one fell swoop. It was fullness and sin and everything he had never known he wanted. It was during these moments that Will finally believed in a higher power. Though the higher being that he believed in was not God but the tangible devil that he held in his arms and kissed against the kitchen counter. 

It never would have happened if Jack Crawford hadn't requested that he go undercover. He was a simple professor at Quantico and, aside from a few in the know, he was largely ignored by the public despite his ability to empathise with killers. This was because he was considered too unstable to be out on the field. He wasn't bothered by this despite his initial disappointment. After all, his gift was one that frequently brought him nightmares from interacting with average criminals. He could only imagine what it would do if he spent his time hunting serial killers. Then Jack Crawford had come into his lecture hall one evening while Will's students let themselves out. He needed to borrow Will's imagination, he said...as if Will had never heard that before. Will dismissed him until Jack had said that it had to do with the Chesapeake Ripper. That got Will's curiosity brimming. It had been years since the Chesapeake Ripper had last hunted. Why now?

Jack told him they had narrowed down the suspects to a few people all heavily involved in the arts scene in Baltimore: fops and dames draped in their finery as they drank overpriced champagne and pretended to be bewildered by _Rigoletto_ even though they've all likely seen it several times. Well, that's how Will saw them. Jack had used kinder language. Still, he had no idea why Jack would want him to get involved in going to the opera when he couldn't stand being around so many people in public--let alone this kind of person. Jack explained that, according to a mole close to their primary suspect, Will would be of interest if under the right disguise. Will debated heavily about what to do. On one hand, the chance to capture the Chesapeake Ripper was not one often given to anyone, let alone an unstable forensic professor who had never stepped onto the field for the FBI. On the other, he would have to parade around like a puppet for Jack to do it. It didn't take long for his sense of responsibility and his fervent curiosity got the better of him. 

And so, attached to the arm of the mole Jack had consulted, Will attended the opera while elegantly, and rather uncomfortably, dressed and coifed. It was here that he met his eventual lover thanks to Jack Crawford and Dr. Bedelia DuMaurier. He behaved in his usual standoffish and rude manner but Dr. Lecter merely seemed enchanted by him and fascinated by every word and gesture Will presented. After the evening, Will had no problem clearing Hannibal Lecter of being the Chesapeake Ripper. Sure the man was a bit odd but that was to be expected of someone with his background. It was nothing out of the ordinary…or it didn’t seem like it to him. Yet he knew he had a ways to go before properly clearing him of suspicion.

Which was why when Hannibal asked him to come over for dinnerv several days after they had met, Will didn’t think twice about it. He even brought a bottle of wine that he thought couldn’t be too terrible. Will still had a job to do, after all, and it involved getting close to Hannibal. He wasn’t expecting for the dinner to be a date however. That took him by complete surprise as did the kiss that Hannibal planted on his cheek as they partook of their digestifs. Will blinked in surprise and asked,

“Is this a date?”

“Of course,” Hannibal said without a beat.

“I thought you wanted to cultivate a friendship.”

“I suspect that the light of friendship won’t reach us for a million years. That’s how far away we are from friendship.”

There was something about Hannibal that made all of his senses go off at once and though he should be afraid of what he was feeling and the quickness of it, he wasn’t. This was no easy feat given he lived in a constant state of fear. Yet it was with Hannibal, that he felt more comfortable than he ever had before in his life. It was with Hannibal that he knew himself better than he had ever known himself and none of this was something that one threw away. So, after more dates masqueraded as conversations, Will knew that Hannibal was the one.

Then one day, the carefully curated mask that Hannibal wore was dropped. This was when Will became intimately familiar with the fact that omissions are betrayals and that he had taken a monster into the shelter of his soul as he had done with countless wandering dogs in the past.

He really should have seen it coming but he had let Hannibal lull him into that false sense of security that had so endeared them to one another. Little did he know that he would go hunting for a bottle of wine in Hannibal’s pantry and found his way to a slaughterhouse with human parts in it. He gripped the bottle in his hands so tight that his knuckles went white and it was then that all the pieces of the puzzle slotted together and he realised what had been happening around him. He realised the truth. Before he could make any decision or take any action, Hannibal found him there and placed a dominating hand on his shoulder,

“I have never been entirely able to predict you. Alas, this was the inevitable conclusion,” Hannibal said.

“Are you going to kill me?” Will asked.

“I would have already if I wanted to. And though I have eagerly thought of consuming your flesh, the price is too costly for it to be a reasonable course of action. My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will.”

He looked back at Hannibal and kissed his jaw, “If you’re partial to beef products it’s inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow.”

Will left that night and disappeared for a week. Alana, Hannibal, and jack all wanted answers when he had none to give. He took his time to consider whether he was going to observe or participate. He could continue to observe for Jack and get concrete proof that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper. In doing so, he could actively participate in an operation to take away the freedom of the one person around whom he was never alone. Conversely, he could simply observe Hannibal and become a participant to Hannibal’s crimes.

"Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well.

He will hardly be caught a second time."

The truth was that Will did not want Hannibal to be caught a second time. Only Will had caught him and he refused to let him go. Even if, in doing so, he would feel guilty for Hannibal’s crimes going backward and forward in time. It was too late for his decision to be any other but complicity. He and Hannibal had begun to blur and he didn’t know if either of them was capable of surviving separation. So when Jack Crawford called and asked if Will had the Ripper, Will lied.

Will and Hannibal marked this sacred occasion in bed. Hannibal enveloped Will and Will licked, bit, and scratched as they fucked until they were black and blue and red with the exertion. It was the first time that Will had lied for Hannibal and he had liked it so deeply that his marrow felt alight with pleasure. This would not be the last time he lied.

As the years passed, lying became second nature to Will. He, like his lover, developed a carefully constructed human suit that would only come off in the confines of their home and in the freedom of the hunt. The first time they had hunted together had been euphoric. Will had been a lure to bring poor Mr. Dimmond into their apartment in Paris where they stayed for a brief holiday. When Will slit Mr. Dimmond’s throat and the blood splattered all over him and Hannibal he breathed deeply from the adrenaline and gripped Hannibal’s arms tight to keep from falling. The two shared a kiss and Will soaked in the tub and let the water take him under as Hannibal cleaned up. It was the ugliest thing one human could do to another but he had never felt more beautiful.

Whether they went out and hunted a criminal or they hosted a party where the night ended with a feast of the rude, their behaviour, at once destructive and passionate, continued on and on. Then one day Will could no longer recognise himself in a mirror. He realised that he was a puppet to Hannibal’s whims. Perchance there was love but there was always control. He couldn’t shake the control that Hannibal had over him no matter what he did. He couldn’t quit him. It was impossible. But he couldn’t keep going this way. Neither of them could. What they had was not sustainable. So it was time to end it.

And that lead to the party: Hannibal spoke to the socialite and Will ran his fingers over the knife in his pocket. He could forgive Hannibal with all his heart even if he could not forgive himself for the love he had for him or for all the lies and the crimes he had been part of across time. He would forgive how God forgives because he can’t live without Hannibal and he can no longer live with him either. This was his final way of changing both of them.

He eyed Hannibal as he took a sip of his wine. He would deny it if asked but he would miss this life once they were gone from it. He crossed the room and rudely interrupted Hannibal’s conversation and kissed him.

“I love you,” he said against the older man’s lips.

Hannibal caressed the side of Will’s face, “And I you, mylimasis. But I’m sure our guests would like to be attended.”

He nodded and left without excusing himself. He wasn’t the type. Hannibal would do it for him.

Then the party was over and everyone had left except their neighbour. The one that had convinced herself that she could seduce Hannibal away from Will. Hannibal went to get more wine for all of them and Will smiled at her,

“You can’t have him,” he said.

The socialite was surprised and smiled nonchalantly, “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve always gotten everything you have ever wanted and you are under the impression that Hannibal is something that you can have because you have a few things in common and you can bat your eyes like a damsel in distress. You think I’m beneath him and you don’t understand why he would have ever chosen me. So your design is to lower me in his eyes until you can sleep between the cracks and have him. But you won’t.”

She smirked, “What makes you so sure?”

“He would never want you. You are unspeakably rude to him. You will never and could never be equal to him. Which makes you meat.”

She snorted, “Meat? What, you think I’m here for a threeway? I’m a one man at a time kind of woman.”

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. Meat is meat…there was enough of it on the menu.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“Of course you don’t. Not to worry, sweetheart, you don’t need to.”

Before she could speak another word, Hannibal, who had stealthily come back into the room and stood behind her, snapped her neck. She was paralysed and mercifully unconscious for the time being. When she woke up she would be on a table, fearing for her life and in more pain than she had ever felt, but she would be unable to move or even articulate her distress. Hannibal would make sure of it: the last thing he wanted to do was spoil the meat.

Once they were done harvesting her, they kissed their way to the bed. Will bent Hannibal over and kissed his back as he took the knife out of his pocket. In a flash, Hannibal turned over and stuck a linoleum knife in Will’s side and all but gutted him. He had seen this coming and he refused to let this betrayal stand. Will gasped and held onto Hannibal tightly before stabbing the older man’s jugular. In retaliation, Hannibal dug the knife deeper and caused irreparable damage before he lost the strength to do so. They held each other as their blood spilled like paint all over their sheets. Their eyes contained multitudes as they looked at each other and spoke volumes of gory sonnets the world would never hear. Hannibal closed his eyes first and Will, covered in their blood, kissed his lips one more time and stared at the ceiling as it insidiously became enshrouded in darkness.

**NOW:**

Jack Crawford entered the house after he had received Will’s letter a day or two later. He called for backup when he saw the corpses in the bedroom. The truth came to light in death. Jack had gotten the truth but he would never get to catch the killer. Quelle dommage….

* * *

“Hannibal?” Alana Bloom asked.

Hannibal looked up, set his pencil down and closed the notebook on which he had been writing.

“Yes, Alana?” He responded.

“Congratulations, Hannibal. You’re officially insane.”

He pulled himself completely out of his reverie and came back to the cold cell to which he had resigned himself. He continued his conversation with Alana in the usual manner and once she was gone he read through what he had written. He wasn’t usually fond of writing fiction and he had more than enough in his Mind Palace to keep the hours occupied but he couldn’t help but write down something he had been frequently drawing. Another version of his life with a much shorter ending. A version where he had had Will. It might have been for too short a time if he was being perfectly honest, but it was time enough that he could savour the lies on his lips and the cutting nature of his eyes before they ultimately succumbed to their darkest urges. No, it would never be the truth. The teacup could never reverse and form this way for them. But Hannibal wasn’t giving up on Will and that much was evident by the letter he had sent him.

_Dear Will,_

_We have all found a new life, but our old lives hover in the shadows, like incipient madness._

_Soon enough I fear Jack Crawford will come knocking. I would encourage you, as a friend, not to step back through the door he holds open._

_It’s dark on the other side, and madness is waiting…_

If Will truly knew him, he would know what the letter meant and Hannibal would have no need of the second rate fiction that he had written to bide the time. He couldn’t be absolutely certain of what would come to pass but he could certainly make an educated guess. When it came to them, madness was always waiting and will always wait. It was only a matter of time before he could behold his beloved once again. It was only a matter of time before he would once again feel the cool breeze in his air and taste the sumptuous darkness of blood on his tongue. As much as he denied himself, Will Graham would make sure of it.


End file.
